Nothing But the Best
by Suzie's Q
Summary: Lily Evans would ask James Potter for help a thousand times before she'd lose a bet, but with three months for him to teach her Quidditch, she may be getting more than she's bargained for.


As usual, I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, or any of the words, or any of it really. Also as usual, thank you to Kate for her encouragement, excellent guidance and kind words, I would get nothing done without you. And an ocean of gratitude goes to Aqueendia, who beta'd this monster for me, so thank you for making this a million times better and pointing out where I was really stupid. You is amazing.

I'd also like to point out that the reason I never post is because I don't know how to title things. Okay, that's it, happy reading!

* * *

**Nothing But the Best**

_Or, Why Quidditch Makes Everything Better, According to James Potter_

If there was one thing on which Lily Evans prided herself, it was the ability to say that she had never needed anybody's help, even though she was very grateful to those who offered it from time to time. She did well in school, she never had much trouble grasping difficult spells or getting a good firm grip on new concepts, and she found studying considerably easier than most – although she stressed about it almost twice as much.

This was why she was neither upset nor troubled, but maybe a little disappointed, certainly put out, and most _definitely _apprehensive. Because she was going to ask for help.

She was relatively tame for a Gryffindor; she was very reserved when it came to decision-making, and while she was strong-minded and brave, unafraid of speaking her mind or standing up for herself. Everything she did was well thought out, and she very rarely dived into situations without thinking of the consequences.

However, a Gryffindor streak in the very blood is hard to ignore, and it surfaced most easily – as was the case with all Gryffindors – when presented with a dare, or a challenge of any kind. And this particular dare, she had realized later, was one she could not accomplish on her own, because she did not have the slightest idea of where to start.

So, she was forced to admit she needed help, and since no one was a mind-reader she was going to have to ask for it.

Her problem didn't stop at that though. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right, and there were very few people she was completely sure were capable of such a task. She needed someone widely skilled in that area, which narrowed down the list to one inevitable choice, as she had known it would.

She was going to have to ask James Potter to help her.

This wasn't as much of a problem now as it would have been two years ago – they were friends, and worked well together as Heads (aside from one or two arguments, which grew to be exaggerated by both parties at a later time) but Lily would never have described them as close. They simply got on well, which Lily supposed would make this easier.

After all, if this had happened in fifth year, she would have stuck her head in the lake before admitting to him that she needed his help. And yes, James would probably laugh – but she didn't mind seeing him laugh anymore, and when he was finished laughing at her he might actually agree to help her.

At least, she hoped he would. Asking for help was uncharted territory for her.

She'd been going over how exactly she could bring this up, on a gloomy, stormy day in January. It was a few days before her birthday, when she went looking for him. The Heads didn't have many special privileges, but one of them was a small, cramped office on the first floor, with two desks crammed inside and a small bookshelf.

Occasionally, Lily had caught him studying there – since he didn't really have the concentration to study when others (namely Sirius, Remus and Peter) were around. Even_ James Potter _had felt the need to crack a book this year.

This was one of those rare occasions – he was hunched over his own desk, his cheek resting in his hand, his expression blank and his eyelids beginning to droop.

"Hi," she greeted, heaving a sigh as she slammed her bag down on her own desk, resisting the urge to smile when he jerked upright.

"Oh," he muttered, yawning. "Hi."

"How's the studying going?" she asked lightly, smirking a little as she perched herself atop his desk, her arms folded.

He gave a non-committal shrug, dragging his gaze back to the book in front of him reluctantly. They lapsed into silence, James doodling in the corner of the page, and Lily carefully pondering over how she was going to bring it up in the first place.

Eventually, he did it for her. "Alright, what do you want?" He didn't look up, and he sounded exasperated. She blinked down at him innocently.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged and dropped his quill, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her suspiciously, arms folded. After a few seconds, he nodded pointedly in her direction, his hazel eyes narrowed. "What's this about, then? First off, you're sitting here in _silence,_ not to mention on my desk, which is weird enough for you. And you're staring."

"Well, maybe I just find you so attractive I can't look away," she joked, and he gave her the same reaction he always did when she teased him like that – a small eye roll, his jaw set, clearing his throat awkwardly as he threw her a small, perfunctory smile. She had never really stopped to consider that maybe it affected him more than she thought – maybe it even bothered him when she teased him about that. After all, maybe it was still a touchy subject.

She let out a sigh, once again disappointed with his reaction. "Can't I just want to talk to you?" she asked, and not even half a second had passed before he'd replied with a simple, almost amused: "No."

"Well, I do," she replied, smiling sweetly at him – even daring to flutter her eyelashes, which was entering into dangerous territory. For half a second, it occurred to her that maybe this would just upset him, this blatant teasing, but the thought didn't last long.

Even though there was still that steely look in his eyes, the one that he adopted any time someone brought up his feelings for her in the past, there was also the ghost of a smirk on his face, which told Lily one thing: he wasn't having any of it.

"As I believe you've told me many times, flirting will get you nowhere," he pointed out, eyeing her suspiciously. "What is it you want now?"

"Who says I want anything?" she retorted, a little petulantly. He didn't bother saying anything – he only raised one eyebrow, effortlessly cool, and looked at her expectantly.

She sighed, getting off the desk and folding her arms, her gaze falling to her feet. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, not because she was embarrassed by _him, _but because the request was so ludicrous.

"I need to learn how to play Quidditch."

He blinked at her, and from the way he was staring, Lily could tell he was trying very hard to work out if she was joking or not. After a few, excruciatingly long seconds, he seemed to decide she _was _joking, and chuckled heartily. "I thought you said flying was dangerous."

"It is dangerous," she said immediately, a little too hotly – this was a belief to which she had held on tightly from very early on (after witnessing a particularly brutal attack to the head with a Beater's bat, the victim of which just so happened to be the boy sitting in front of her).

"But I made a bet," she admitted, her cheeks going scarlet. His eyebrows shot up, and he looked at her, evidently waiting for an explanation. She sighed. "Alright, well, I know Marlene's not exactly professional standard, but she's quite handy on a broom. And she bet me that I wouldn't be able to take her on, just one on one. And you know me, I can't -"

"Can't say no to a dare," he finished for her, nodding and grinning in appreciation of that fact. "Yeah. I remember." He went back to eyeing her suspiciously for a few seconds, but at least he seemed more amused now that he believed her, which only made her blush again. Good _Lord, _this was ludicrous.

He grinned at her, that stupid crooked smile that oddly made her fear for the safety of the school, but at the same time made her feel like she'd done something right, that he approved and was impressed, and made her want to continue. "I'm still not hearing your question, Evans."

She blinked at him, and then scowled when he met her gaze, his mouth twisting into a smirk. She could tell how much he enjoyed that, and how much he was enjoying watching her squirm as she battled with herself.

"I thought you could teach me," she said stiffly.

"Did you?" he said conversationally, examining his nails.

She tapped her foot, pursing her lips and staring at a point in the carpet as she fought with herself internally. Eventually, she clicked her tongue against her teeth and glared up at him. "I need your help."

"Absolutely not," he retorted immediately, mimicking her in clicking his tongue. "Too dangerous."

"I can handle it," she replied, shooting him a death glare.

"Well, you'd better ask me for help then, shouldn't you?" he said gleefully, sticking his tongue out at her. She'd been expecting that by now, and after a few seconds of cold silence, she rolled her eyes.

"Please?" she forced out.

He tilted his head in thought, even though Lily knew he'd already made his mind up. She waited, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Okay," he said eventually, getting to his feet and giving her a small shrug. "As long as you swear that I won't be held liable for any injuries you may or may not sustain. It's dangerous, after all," he snorted, nodding his head in her direction.

"What - really?" she said sharply, a small grin daring to tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Certainly," he replied, shrugging again. "Why not? I've got nothing better to do."

She was too pleased to even register the dig at her – her shoulders sagged and she sighed with relief, and she grinned at him brightly. "Thank you," she said cheerfully. "I really, really owe you one."

"Yeah, yeah," he retorted, rolling his eyes after throwing her a playful scowl and opening the door, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. "You're lucky I can never say no to you."

XXX

It had been three days, and Marlene had subjected her to an endless stream of taunts and mildly threatening promises – they'd decided to use the forfeit system, a decision Lily was starting to regret as worry and dread started to tie knots in her stomach, and James Potter hadn't so much as looked at her in three days, after promising to help her.

She realized that she'd been wise in not mentioning to Marlene who she'd sought help from (or, more realistically, that she'd sought help at all), since it would have been even more embarrassing to have to go and tell her that it turned out he wouldn't be helping her after all.

And yet, James had proved time and time again that she underestimated him, and really shouldn't, since he always came through – mostly to prove her wrong about something, but nevertheless, the fact still remained that he was reliable, and Lily would have done well to remember it more.

It was the third day, and Marlene was gleefully using her opportunity during dinner to reel off to Lily all the alarmingly dull yet mildly humiliating tasks she'd have Lily do once she won, and Lily was hardly touching her curry. This fact alone was starting to worry Mary, who sat with them and looked like she could not have been more bored by her friends' antics if she tried – curry was Lily's favourite.

"And then, after that, I was thinking you could go down to McGonagall's office and – oh, hi James!" Marlene cut off brightly, grinning over Lily's shoulder at the new arrival.

Lily, who had had her head in one hand and was staring glumly ahead of her, perked up suddenly, whipping around. "It's about bloody time!" she said, and she was appalled to find her desperation seeping into her voice a little bit.

James shrugged his shoulders. "Things to do, Evans. Contrary to popular belief, my whole world doesn't revolve around you," he told her, grinning.

Both Marlene and Mary snorted with disbelief. "You sure about that, James?" Marlene sniggered.

He glared at her, reaching over to mess up her hair. "Ah, sod off," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "C'mon then, Evans. We'd better get started."

Mary, who was perennially aquiver to every nuance and sign of chemistry in their relationship, jerked upright, eyeing the two of them. "Well, where are _you _two off to?" she asked, and no one was surprised to find that she didn't even make an attempt at subtlety.

Lily just flushed, and stared at her feet. "It's not like that," she mumbled, so quietly she doubted anybody heard her.

James, on the other hand, was very rarely phased by – well, anything. He simply grinned at Mary good-naturedly, shrugging his shoulders. "Evans has suddenly got the urge to become an international Quidditch player, so I'm helping her out."

Lily froze, her mouth in a thin line – she hadn't actually meant for him to tell them that. She risked a glance at Marlene, who had narrowed her eyes. She was looking slightly nervous at this development, Lily was a little smug to see.

She got to her feet, thinking that if James could be so charismatic in face of _everything _that came his way, she could try it. "He's just going to help me out," she affirmed, throwing him a small smile. "He's just doing me a favour, really."

Marlene was glaring now. James noticed this, but merely seemed amused by it. "Ah, it's my pleasure," he said lightly, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm sure it'll be fun to see you crash into the goalposts before you get the hang of it. Ready, then?" he asked her. "I've got practice at eight, and I'm taking you out before then."

Mary snorted at his choice of words, earning a dark look from Lily.

Lily rearranged her features into a small, if slightly timid, smile before she turned back to James. "I'm ready. I'll see you later," she told her friends cheerfully, delightedly relishing in Marlene's stricken expression.

They started walking slowly; Lily was surprised to find that one or two people threw them a curious glance as they passed. Whether James noticed this and wasn't bothered, or whether he was really oblivious to it, she didn't know, but either way he didn't appear to be perturbed.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked. "Looks to me like Marls just realized she's not winning this bet," he remarked, his tone conversational, but a little smug too.

"She could still win," Lily replied, shrugging one shoulder.

"She won't, though," he replied almost immediately, throwing her a confident smile and a small wink.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

She pulled a face at him, half-impressed and half-appalled by his confidence, and she fell silent, racking her brains for something to say.

"Listen, James," she started eventually, when they were halfway across the grounds and the silence was just beginning to get to her. She glanced across at him, wondering how he could seem quite so _comfortable _in complete silence. "Thanks for helping me out with this," she said sincerely. "I know you're busy and all, and nobody said you had to, but still you –"

He held up a hand to stop her, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Personally, I'd love to see Marlene get thrashed at a game of one-on-one. She always used to accuse me of cheating when we played, and of _course_ everybody sided with her." He gave an overly dramatic, heavy sigh and an equally dramatic eye-roll, as if this was still a particularly painful point of contention for him.

She rolled her eyes. "Even still, nobody said you had to –"

"Don't _worry,_" he said again, laughing at her earnest expression. "Consider it a birthday present, Evans," he added, winking at her.

"You knew it was my birthday?"

"Tomorrow, isn't it?"

She nodded, her cheeks flushing a pale pink. "Er, yes, it is."

He glanced over at her and nodded. "And I gave up giving you presents," he told her coolly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "So this will have to do."

She chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

He nodded, waving his hand again. "So you don't think this counts as cheating, getting me to help?"

"Nah," Lily said quickly, frowning in thought. "I mean, we both agreed I'd need help from someone, since I don't know the first thing about Quidditch." They both laughed at that. "But I don't think she was expecting me to ask _you."_

"And why not?" he demanded, a little indignant.

She shrugged, wrinkling her nose when her cheeks flushed slightly. "Dunno. Pride? I have . . . a little trouble admitting when I need help, and you of all people . . ." She trailed off, frowning.

"Ah, she didn't think you'd be able to swallow your pride and admit that I was a decent bloke who _wasn't _entirely useless and a bully and . . . all that stuff?"

She didn't answer; she threw him a sceptical look which he didn't catch, and rolled her eyes.

"Still doesn't make sense," he went on. "Of course you'd ask me – who else would you ask? Everybody knows you're not going to get better, and if I know Lily Evans, which I do, she accepts nothing but the best."

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "And you think I was _wrong _when I said you were arrogant?"

He smirked at her. "It's different when you're actually that good. Otherwise it's just pathetic."

"_You're_ just pathetic," she grumbled, rolling her eyes.

They shrugged and moved off-topic, the subject of McGonagall's latest assignment (one which left students ripping out their hair at three in the morning for weeks on end to complete) carried them all the way down to the Quidditch pitch. As it loomed into view, Lily began to feel her stomach tighten with nerves.

"You do know I've not been on a broom in years, right?" she asked him abruptly, following him a little tentatively into the changing room, hugging her elbows.

"I did know that," he affirmed, nodding. "Considering you didn't even stop to realize you need one to go flying."

She blinked at him, and once his words hit home, her cheeks flushed terribly. "Oh. Yeah, that would have been smart. I don't have a broom anyway."

"I know." He disappeared into the little captain's office at the back, and emerged a minute later. "Fortunately for you, I've got a spare." He had two brooms in his hand – they were both clearly expensive and well-groomed, though it was obvious that one had been given a lot more love and affection than the other. He threw her the other one – slightly more worn, an inch shabbier (shabby in this case meaning a twig or two out of place, and only a moderate amount of shine on the handle) – as opposed to the one he kept, gleaming and immaculate.

"You've got _two _brooms?" she repeated, her jaw dropping open.

He shrugged. "I got a new one for Christmas, no point throwing out an old one. Expect the unexpected and all that."

He inclined his head and led her out to the pitch, where it was a little chillier than Lily had originally anticipated.

"Alright," he began briskly, quite upbeat. "I've got an hour and a half, and there's no point teaching you tactics or rules or anything yet, it'll go over your head."

"Oh, thanks," she grumbled under her breath.

He threw her a small smile. "I'm just looking out for you, Evans," he told her, poking her side and laughing. "Better you know how to fly the broom properly rather than throw you in at the deep end only to have you – erm, fall off."

She nodded, pursing her lips in determination. "Right. You're probably right. This is one of those incredibly rare moments where I'm going to have to trust your judgment," she said, eyeing him dubiously.

"Relax," he said soothingly. "I know what I'm doing. You, on the other hand..." He trailed off. "I presume you know how to get on a broom?"

"Yes, of course," she said sharply.

"Right," he replied, sniggering a little. "Well, let's get a move on then."

XXX

"Well, I don't see what the problem is!" Lily screeched, her teeth chattering in the cold and stomping her foot impatiently. They'd been out twice more since that first night, and as they really should have predicted, tensions were running a little high.

"The problem is," he retorted, his arms folded and his cold tone laced with irritation and exasperation. "If you keep holding it like that, you're going to go flying off one end, and I'm trying to make sure you don't fall off!"

"I haven't fallen off yet!" she retorted hotly, wrinkling her nose.

He rolled his eyes. "But you will. I know it's difficult for you, but can you _please _just do it the way I asked you to?" he grumbled, making Lily scowl at him.

"I'm trying," she told him tersely, gritting her teeth to stop them from chattering. Truth be told, the first lesson had only gone okay, and the second one was a little worse. This one, however, had been disastrous. It was freezing cold and Lily's fingers had been stuck to the broom, which made it hard to steer, and as James had pointed out, hard to grip.

"Are you _sure _you want to do this?" he asked her, for about the millionth time in that week alone.

"Yes!" she burst out, stomping her foot again. "Positive."

"Well, you're going to have to try harder then," he told her, and it sounded like he was wrestling very hard with his patience, which she gave him credit for.

"Well, maybe you're going to have to teach better," she shot back sullenly.

"That was low and you know it," he muttered, picking up his broom from the ground where he'd thrown it. "Come on, let's call it a night."

"Fine," she snapped, shoving his broom back to him and hugging herself tightly.

They walked back to the common room in silence, but instead of the usual comfortable silence – not that they were silent very often, since James very rarely let a conversation die – it was stony and unwelcoming, and Lily had to frown to herself when they were about half the way there.

When they reached the portrait hole, she caught his arm, sighing heavily. "Listen . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . ."

He paused, gently prying his arm away so he could fold both of them across his chest, and looked at her peculiarly, almost a little frustrated.

"Asking for help, _and _apologizing in less than two weeks," he remarked, one eyebrow just twitching slightly upwards. "Who are you, and what have you done with Lily Evans?"

She blinked at him, frozen to the spot for a few seconds. His face was blank, even a little cold, and it threw her off – but once she began to stutter, he started to laugh, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it, Evans," he told her coolly, stepping back after delivering the password and gesturing for her to go ahead of him. "You'll just have to trust me for a little while," he said conversationally. "Be patient with me. Even though every instinct you have tells you not to."

She glanced over at him, completely baffled by the cheer in his tone, but he wasn't looking at her. He was scanning the common room, probably for his friends. "So I'll see you next time," he told her, grinning at her. They went their separate ways, Lily still a little confused.

XXX

In two weeks, Lily had made significant progress. For a start, she could hold her own on a broom, though she was nowhere as good as those in the school who hoped to pursue a professional career. James said that she wasn't near where she needed to be yet, but she was getting there.

After their little spat, there had been a few terribly long days during which they were quiet, and distant, and plainly civil. It made Lily squirm with discomfort to realize that he wouldn't look directly at her while he was speaking, but she figured he was trying to keep her from blowing up on him again.

She was grateful when it stopped – because she was starting to realize that James made the whole experience far more enjoyable. He kept her entertained and told jokes to lighten the mood, he always knew whether she was doing something right and explained things thoroughly and at a pace she could keep up with.

In fact, in a couple of weeks, she was really starting to look forward to getting back on the Quidditch pitch. In her last lesson, he'd told her all the rules and regulations, and gone over them as many times as she'd needed. He brought the Quaffle with him that time, and his own broom, and though he swore otherwise when they'd dismounted, both out of breath and laughing, Lily had known he'd been going really easy on her.

Just as February was busy dissolving into March, she could handle herself quite well – even though she still knew he was being generous in the air, and he could thrash her if he wanted. And she told him so, one night that she'd met him after Quidditch practice was over, and it was dark and chilly by the time they were heading back to the castle.

"You know, Evans, you're really getting the hang of it," he was saying as they walked, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Oh please, I know you're taking it easy," she replied, laughing and scrunching her nose up.

He eyed her for a second and shrugged. "Alright, I am," he admitted, narrowing his eyes. "You weren't supposed to point it out. It's called chivalry."

She chuckled again, ducking her head. "Sorry about that."

"But I really mean it, Evans," he insisted. "I know I'm going easy, but I thought I'd have to go a lot easier. You haven't been practising behind my back or something?" he added, watching her shrewdly.

She shook her head. "Nah, I'm just having fun," she told him, sincere for a second, and she saw something indescribable flash across his face. Then it was gone and he was grinning as if nothing had changed. As she watched, his expression changed again; he seemed to be thinking hard.

"Well, why don't we celebrate then?" he suggested suddenly, raking his fingers through his unruly hair.

"C-celebrate?" she repeated uncertainly, to which he nodded confidently.

"Yeah, I'm quite proud of you," he told her, winking. "And I'm really happy to hear you're having fun," he added. Lily couldn't help but notice the way his voice dropped a little, the solemn expression on his face. "I sort of presumed you'd think you were in Hell."

She smiled and slowly shook her head again. "Yeah, I think a celebration is in order." He laughed and held out his arm for her to take, which she did. She let him lead her off in a different direction once they reached the castle, the opposite direction of the comfort of Gryffindor Tower.

"Where are we going?" she demanded, a little warily, glancing at the unfamiliar portraits as they passed them.

"You'll see," he replied, with a wry smile, and Lily was too stubborn to stop herself from scowling, but he just laughed again. "Alright," he announced finally, reaching the end of a corridor.

She blinked. "It appears we've reached a dead end, unless this was the destination." He rolled his eyes, and his hands on her shoulders turned her to face a painting. After a few seconds, he gave no instruction, and she chuckled.

"Open sesame?"

"The pear," he told her, slowly removing his hands – and Lily felt her stomach flip over, and she mourned the loss of contact somehow. "It's ticklish."

Two hours later, they were tucked away in a corner of the kitchens, laughing together and keeping out of the way, munching on anything and everything that the house elves had to offer them, which was a lot. Once Lily realized how familiar all the house elves seemed to be with James, she'd shot him a playful scowl and smacked his arm.

"You kept this all to yourself?" she demanded.

He just laughed, eyeing her bemusedly. "The best kept secrets are the ones that involve food," he told her wisely, examining a plate of éclairs in a quest to determine the biggest one before he plucked one out of the cluster.

"Of course," she replied slowly, eyeing him apprehensively.

He nodded solemnly, which made Lily chuckle nervously, and they fell into silence. Lily took the opportunity to look around, the vast kitchens stretching on further than her eye could see, delightful smells filling the air. It was warm and inviting, and like every part of the castle, entirely captivating.

"Still, I can't believe you didn't tell anyone about this," she remarked, still glancing around.

He snorted so hard he choked on his food, and Lily had to thump him on the back. But once he'd recovered, he was still laughing. For a second, Lily saw in her mind's eye a flash of a twelve-year-old boy who didn't know how to show off, with a perfectly average sized head, because he had yet to realize who he was or how he'd be treated.

His laughter was contagious, and she found herself giggling along with him, although it was somewhat nervously since she feared she was missing the joke. Not for the first time, she was astonished by his remarkable ability to take everything in his stride – embarrassment was a word that seemed to have been erased from his vocabulary.

"What's so funny?" she said eventually, poking his side.

He shook his head, still chortling. "Nothing, it's just – imagine me, two or three years ago, trying to tell you about this place."

She blinked, chewing on her lip with a nervous smile, waiting for the punch line.

"Well, first of all, you would have called me in idiot – _don't deny it,"_ he said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at her once she'd opened her mouth to protest. She shrugged. "And you would have told me to go away and stop wasting your time. You and I never did share many secrets." He snorted again, shaking his head.

"This is different," she muttered, her cheeks flushing.

"You wouldn't have believed me," he replied, grinning at her. "Which is a real shame."

"It is?"

He nodded again. "Of course it is. You've spent all your time stuck in those books – which is great and all," he said, waving his éclair haphazardly in the process. "But . . . I just happen to believe that if you haven't figured out every little bit of this castle, seen it all, then what was it really all for?"

"So I've achieved nothing?" said Lily, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes," he retorted quickly, grinning at her.

She scowled at him, folding her arms across her chest.

He just laughed. "It was a joke, Evans. You know, when someone says something funny?"

"Ha ha," she said dryly, her voice dripping with sarcasm, rolling her eyes.

"There you go," he said cheerfully. "I think you've grasped the concept."

"Get on with it, then," she told him, permitting a small smile and gesturing for him to continue.

He thought for a second, frowning at his éclair as if he was angry at it for something. "Well," he muttered, chewing slowly. "All I'm saying is, when you're all grown up, and doing something amazing like I know you will," he began, sticking his tongue out at her. She wrinkled her nose, "When you're thinking about Hogwarts, are you going to remember all those nights you spent, cooped up in the library, studying?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows expectantly. She blinked. "Or are you going to remember the ones where you actually discovered the castle you've been reading so much about?"

She stared at him for a few seconds, admittedly a little shell-shocked. "Blimey, don't get all deep on me, Potter," she muttered, her cheeks flushing again.

He laughed. "I'm just saying, _personally _I believe that if you haven't figured out this castle down to the last hidden mousehole, you've wasted your opportunity."

"And you don't waste an opportunity," she said, still eyeing him suspiciously. She didn't like to admit it, but he was right. Her experiences of the castle were quite limited.

She sniffed. "You have to remember," she said defensively, "I came from a Muggle home. Just the parts of the castle you're _supposed _to see are amazing enough for me."

"Fair enough," he allowed, nodding slowly. "But you hardly remember any particular night, where you went out and, I don't know, discovered a hidden ballroom or something."

She raised her eyebrows, choosing to ignore the fact that he was making a lot more sense than he was known for. "_Have_ you found a hidden ballroom or something?" she asked, eyeing him with interest.

With a small smile, he shrugged and shoved the plate in her direction, on which there was one éclair remaining. "It's a secret," he told her.

"I can keep a secret," said Lily, taking the éclair with a grateful smile.

He grinned and shook his head, leaning his chair back on its hind legs. "Sorry, Evans," he said to the ceiling. "Not my secret to tell."

She laughed. "What if I told _you_ one?"

He smirked. "Dunno. What kind of secret?"

"A secret kind of secret," she replied, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him.

He looked at her curiously, one eyebrow slightly raised, and his chair fell back on all fours with a little thud. "To be honest, Evans," he said slowly. "I don't like secrets much."

"But you just said you had loads!" she protested immediately.

"No, I didn't," said James, shaking his head. "I said I had one. You just _presumed."_

She pouted at him, trying to fight back a smile. "Not even good secrets?"

He threw her a small grin, getting to his feet and inclining his head the other way, indicating it was time to go. "Nah. Another word for trouble, innit?"

She threw him a playful scowl, but she got to her feet, shoved her hands in her pockets, and fell into step beside him as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"I thought trouble was just an adventure for you," she told him coolly, glancing over at him.

"That's different," he told her, laughing. "That's _fun,_ if you know what that is. I'm talking about keeping things to yourself, and just bringing a load of grief on yourself. I don't think secrets are worth all the hassle," he told her, letting out a sigh.

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "Stop saying stuff like that," she told him, poking his arm as they walked.

"What?"

"All that sensible stuff. You nearly sound wise," Lily said, shaking her head and frowning up at him.

"I do that quite a lot," he told her, defensively. "And everybody's always so surprised..." he added thoughtfully.

"I like it," she laughed, and then felt her cheeks blush furiously. She shook her head, cursing herself internally, but since didn't really think she had anything left to lose, especially since he hadn't really reacted. "It's quite nice, talking to a sensible James."

"Well, there's a James in third year, Hufflepuff," he told her. "I've heard he was quite sensible."

She couldn't help but laugh at him, but she thwacked his arm. "You know what I mean!"

He nodded, looking at his shoes. "Yeah, I do," he said eventually, rolling his eyes.

She was quiet for a few seconds, pressing her lips together. "Don't let it go to your head," she mumbled.

"Don't worry, Evans. Your secret's safe with me." He grinned over at her brightly, throwing her a wink.

"I thought you weren't a fan of secrets," she retorted quickly, smirking at him, her stomach twisting in pleasant little knots – she couldn't remember having such a nice conversation with him before.

"I'm not," he said, shrugging. "But sometimes secrets just have to be kept."

"So you _do _have secrets," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh, plenty," he replied cheerfully, with a wide grin, before he gave the password to the waiting Fat Lady and waited for Lily to enter.

"Bad secrets?" she said distractedly, clambering through the portrait hole.

"Plenty," he said again, laughing.

Lily stood awkwardly, fiddling with her sleeves. "So are you going to show me the castle then?" she asked after a few seconds. _That_ got his attention – his eyes flicked back to her and took her in.

"Maybe someday," he retorted, inclining his head to the side. "As long as we're clear that it's not because you started flirting."

Her eyebrows shot up, her cheeks flaming, and her heart grinding to a halt in her chest. "Flirting?" she repeated, staring at him. "If that's what you're telling yourself nowadays..."

"Ah, don't try it," he told her, pretending to sigh with exasperation. "I'll see you later, Evans."

He waved his hand, and headed for his dormitory. Lily was left standing, staring after him. He'd surprised her again, and as she headed for her own bed, she couldn't help but think that he seemed to do that a lot.

XXX

He was still going easy on her. Lily could tell that – he was still hurling the Quaffle at her so fast and so hard it nearly knocked her off her broom, but he looked almost _bored. _He still looked so at ease, and it made her scrunch up her nose in frustration.

Whenever she caught it, she could see him smirking, and the next hit was a little harder than the last. And after about forty-five minutes, she was torn between smacking that smirk off his face, and yelling at him to actually put some effort in. Of course, that probably would have hit her so fast, it would have blown a hole in her stomach – but at least she'd feel a bit more satisfied.

She hit it back with all her might, and every time he caught it without the slightest qualm, her scowl became a little deeper.

"You do realize you're supposed to be getting it into the goals, right?" he called.

"I gave up on that," she told him, hurling the Quaffle back in his direction. She heard him give a hearty laugh as he caught it.

"Come on, I know you can do better than that!" he coaxed, and for absolutely no reason whatsoever he looped in the air after he threw the Quaffle to her.

"Apparently not!"

"Come on, Evans, you're making me look like a bad teacher!" he called back.

"You _are_ a bad teacher!" she yelled, throwing the ball back with an almighty swing, which she hoped would at least unbalance him. No such luck, and he threw it back the moment it reached his fingertips.

Lily just barely caught it, and scowling, she held it. She could hear him laughing raucously, and it made her smile, made her cheeks flushed. She narrowed her eyes and peered over at him – the wind was sweeping his hair into even more of a mess than usual, and he was grinning at her. For the first time in a long time, she noticed his crooked smile, the way his head tilted slightly to the left. "Enough for one day, I think?" she yelled. "I'll race you to the bottom."

He nodded, and Lily turned her broom downwards, still thinking of the way he was smiling at her, the strange way that the wind reorganized his hair – and she barely noticed the broom as it started to waver, jerking in one direction and then the next. When she finally did catch on, it was picking up speed, and when she went to control it, turn it to a different course or at least slow down, she found that she was no longer in control, and she couldn't stop it.

Lily had lost control of a broom before (though somehow she'd managed to hold on to the handle, and James had laughed until he couldn't breathe anymore), but this was different. This was a broom taking a life of its own, and all Lily was aware of was that she was hurtling into the stands opposite her, and the next thing she knew, her hands had let go of the broom and she was lying flat on her back.

She was perfectly happy to lie there for a few minutes, staring up at the miraculously blue sky – until she felt a hand at the back of her head, and then James was slowly pulling her into a sitting position, frowning down at her.

"Are you okay?" His voice sounded distant to her, and she looked up to make sure he was really sitting next to her. Once she did, her brain jammed and her heart jumped to her throat.

"I - I - "

His frown deepened. "Did you hit your head?" he said softly, staring at her worriedly. She remembered falling off a broom in first year - she remembered how Sirius and James had laughed, and not just at her, but at anyone who didn't have flawless flying skills. This - this was a whole different person, with a beautiful soul, and Lily liked it. And it scared her. No, she told herself. Not now, not when you're actually getting along.

She knew it was no good though. She'd already done it.

He helped her to her feet, slowly - at his insistence, and he kept a hand on her arm the whole time. Lily tried to ignore the shivers it was sending up her skin.

"Oh!" She covered her mouth, which was in a little _o_ once she saw it, now split awkwardly down the middle, twigs and splinters hanging off both ends. "Oh, James, your broom! I'm so sorry!"

He just laughed, throwing his head back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Relax, Evans. It's just a spare."

She felt lightheaded again, shaking her head and stumbling. She felt his grip on her tighten, but all that did was make her more dizzy. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled miserably. "I'm so so sorry."

"Evans, I've got enough money to buy a million of them, calm down."

She was a little too dizzy to scowl at him for bragging, she just kept shaking her head. "I'm such an idiot, I am _such _an idiot."

And then he started laughing again, whole-heartedly, and he didn't stop, shaking his head at her fondly. And after a little while, she'd regained her balance, and she found herself laughing with him, that infectious smile getting to her.

He brought her back to the castle, still chuckling every few seconds with amusement, but she knew he was keeping an eye on her. "So what are we going to do now? Ride a school broom?"

He wrinkled his nose in disdain. "Not a chance. I'll sort something out."

"What?" she demanded, snorting.

"Don't worry, Evans," he said cheerfully, grinning at her conspiratorially. "Don't you know who I am? I've always got a plan."

XXX

It had been almost two weeks.

The rational side of her brain told her over and over again that they were both very busy people, and he had other things to sort. She wasn't at the top of his list of priorities and she was just going to have to be patient. But she grew more and more anxious as the days wore on - not only was time running out, she found herself living for the chance that they'd go back out to the pitch, or that he'd talk to her at least.

Although she kept it to herself, she missed it. She was starting to miss _him, _the way he smiled at her when she did something right, the way he had of telling her what she was doing wrong without sounding too superior or condescending (something which surprised her), how he somehow managed to make it fun even when she didn't have a clue what she was doing.

And she was hoping he'd at least _talk _to her, because she was becoming more and more paranoid that he was in fact upset over his broom, even though he'd sworn to the moon and back it wasn't a big deal. She was beyond taking that to heart. By the end of the two weeks, she was convinced that he was furious with her for breaking his broom (even though that same rational voice, which had been so oppressed at this point it sounded as though it were taking its dying breath insisted that he wasn't) and he was never going to talk to her again, or at least until he got over it.

And when it came to Quidditch, James Potter was a weird one. It could be _years _before he got over it. And once that thought struck her, she was left with the forlorn (and slightly confusing) thought that she didn't want to wait years to talk to him again. Even if he didn't want to go flying with her again, he could at least pretend he liked her.

In normal circumstances, being ignored (well, not ignored, put aside for a couple of weeks, though she refused to see it that way) wouldn't have bothered Lily. She treated people in the way that they treated her, and had far bigger problems than whether or not someone still liked her.

And every day, she asked herself why she was stressing over it so much. It was only _James, _and she couldn't think of one occasion when James hadn't come back to her eventually. She knew she was acting stupid (and constantly reminded herself that at least she had never acted this stupid before) but she was beyond caring. She just wanted a sign, anything. And if you asked her why she wanted it, she wouldn't have been able to tell you. She'd grown quite used to his company, and though she said nothing, she wasn't prepared to give it up just yet.

And James, as always, didn't let her down.

She was sitting in the library, at a table which had the misfortune of being flanked by two rather raucous groups of second years on either side, who were just beginning to give Lily a headache as she transcribed notes, poking dots on her _i'_s so hard she kept puncturing the parchment, but kept going anyway. Just as Madam Pince swept over - reminding Lily of a vulture - to unleash her wrath upon the poor unsuspecting perpetrators who had disturbed the peace in her library, James poked her in the arm, jerking his head in the other direction once she looked up.

"C'mon."

That was it. One word - er, sort of.

"What's going on?" she asked, already gathering her notes and stuffing them into her bag.

"We're going _flying, _genius," he told her slowly, raising one eyebrow. "Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing? Now come on, I'm a busy man, I haven't got all day."

She nodded, grinning, and she looked down and let her hair fall over her face to hide it. "Been busy?" she asked, while she crammed heavy book after heavy book into her bag, struggling to get it closed. He eyed her warily, and nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Stuff to sort out."

"Right. Okay, let's go." She shouldered the bag and nodded at him, and they left the library, her struggling slightly to keep up with him under the weight of her bag, until he rolled his eyes and held out his hand for it, and Lily handed it over, biting back a smug smile.

"Thanks," she muttered, glancing across at him.

"Yeah, yeah," he retorted, rolling his eyes again exaggeratedly. They walked in silence for a few minutes - and this time, while James seemed as comfortable as ever, Lily was anything but. She fiddled with her sleeves, looking across at him every two seconds, bobbing on the balls of her feet as they walked, racking her brains for something to stay, her stomach twisted and lurching with nerves.

"So - erm," she started awkwardly. "What are we going to do about a broom? Sorry about that," she added quickly, unable to restrain herself.

"If you apologize one more time, I'll hex you so bad you'll never _walk _again, let alone fly," he grumbled, shaking his head.

She pressed her lips together and smiled. "Sorry," she muttered, earning herself a playful scowl.

"I'm going to have to knock that out of you."

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing about the broom predicament that I'm still really sorry for?"

"Well, first," he said, pretending to think about it hard. "I'm going to take my broom, and beat you over the head with it until the word 'sorry' falls out of your brain." She laughed, her cheeks flaming.

"Wait, you're not serious, are you?"

"No, I'm the attractive one."

She laughed again, giddily, despite the stale and well overused pun, throwing her head back as they walked out to the pitch. "Looked in the mirror lately, Potter?"

"Of course I have, can't go a day without doing that," he retorted coolly.

She just rolled her eyes. "Okay, will you please tell me now?" They'd reached the pitch, and she stood with her arms folded, her eyebrows raised and tapping her foot expectantly, trying not to look too impatient. After all, he was doing her a favour, and being really nice about it. In fact, _incredibly _nice about it. Her heart fluttered at the thought, and she smiled - forgetting that she was meant to be staring him down for a few seconds - wondering where this side had been all this time.

She didn't want it to stop, she wanted him to be nice some more - maybe if she fell over again, and he'd look down at her with that look of concern, and when he realized she was okay he'd laugh and his eyes would crinkle up at the corners and she'd start laughing too because it was _bloody contagious. _If only she could take a dive without him seeing . . .

He eyed her for a few seconds, evidently waging an internal battle, before he turned away with a heavy sigh. "Okay," he said shortly. "I've never done this before, and if you screw this one up, so help me, you'd _better _be sorry," he threatened, narrowing his eyes as he held out his own broom.

She blinked at it. "What - you're going to let me use _your _broom?" He nodded. "Your expensive, most prized possession, best broom in the world, _that _broom?"

His lips twitched but he nodded again. "Just be careful."

She took it slowly, half-expecting him to lunge for it and tell her to go fetch a dodgy Starsweep from the cupboard. But he let her take it, a rueful smile on his face. "Wow, James," she remarked, smirking and pressing her hand over her heart. "I'm touched."

He scowled. "Don't rub it in, it's not _my _fault I'm wrapped around your finger."

She chuckled, but now it was a little caught in her throat, and she found that she was blushing furiously, ducking her head. He seemed to notice, because he let out a tiny laugh and looked away to spare her the embarrassment. "Should we get a move on then?" he suggested, raking his fingers through his hair. She nodded, twirling the broom over in her hands.

"You sure I can handle this?" she asked, gazing up at him.

He nodded. "I trust you. Unfortunately."

XXX

Once she'd landed - James waiting for her on the ground, since he'd rather stay on his feet than even _touch _one of the school brooms ("I wouldn't be caught dead on one of those things. No really, you see me on one of those things, you kill me.") he threw her an odd look. "You okay?"

She nodded, handing the broom back to him and gasping for breath, brushing her slightly damp hair back. "Yeah," she breathed. "Why?"

"Well, you kept zig-zagging around - I was getting a little - "

"Worried?" she cut across him, grinning brilliantly.

"Confused," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her. "What's going on, you've been taking dives all day."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snorted, waving her hand dismissively. _Bugger. _He wasn't buying any of it. She wrinkled her nose when he wasn't looking - that would be the last tumble she'd be taking for a while. She let out a frustrated huff - why did it bloody well _bother _her so much? He was just going to laugh anyway – and she wanted him to laugh - but she didn't want to make a fool out of herself, and that's all she'd be doing.

What _did _she want? It wasn't much less than a universal truth to say that she'd been thinking about it all day - not so much about flying anymore, and making sure she didn't come across as an idiot, but what happened before and after - the walk there, the walk back, the detours to the kitchens or some other amazing part of the castle, to which Lily couldn't believe she'd spent seven whole years completely oblivious.

"So are we done for the day?" he asked cheerfully.

She nodded, her cheeks still flaming red, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment nagging at her. "Guess so."

"Good." He inclined his head for her to follow him, which she did, considerably quieter this time around. "And Evans? Don't take any dives next time. I don't really do distressing damsels."

"So you do the knights in armour instead?" she quipped, laughing to herself and turning her head the other way. "Didn't realize you swung that way, Potter. Although, all things considered, your relationship with Sirius _is _borderline erotically codependent at this stage . . ."

"Very funny," he grumbled, poking her side as they walked. She grinned up at him, but it faded quickly one she saw him, feeling a spurt of electricity shoot through her. She cleared her throat, lowering her head quickly.

"What?" he said quickly, eyeing her curiously. She barely heard him with her heart pounding in her ears, but she shook her head.

"I - nothing." He shrugged and changed the subject, for which she was immensely grateful, but she couldn't escape the thudding in her chest as they walked, so hard that by the time they arrived at the Tower, she was convinced he could hear it.

He grinned - only convincing her _more, _along with confusing her a whole lot more - and winked at her, which she wasn't ready for. She blushed again, and cursed herself internally. "I'll see you tomorrow, Evans. When's your match?"

She blinked up at him, her smile vanishing. "Dunno yet. I'll let you know."

He wavered for a second, looking down at her, and the air around them stilled. Lily felt her breath hitch in her throat, and she was _staring _at him, and her gaze had wandered from his gaze to his mouth while he talked - whatever he was saying, she didn't hear it - and all she wanted to do was kiss them.

"Lily?"

His confused tone jerked her back to reality, and she blinked, startled. "I - yeah?"

"You going in?" he asked her, nodding towards the portrait hole, which was now hanging open. With that, she nodded and he bid her goodnight once they'd scrambled through the portrait hole. She was getting a little tired of staring after him in surprise, she thought to herself. Rooted to the spot like someone had hexed her, not even in charge of her own feelings.

She didn't sleep much that night. She'd gone and done it; she went and fell for him like the fool she was. Why hadn't she seen this _coming? _And more importantly, what the _bloody hell _was she going to do about it?

XXX

Her feet touched the ground, and when she turned to hand his broom back to him, she found he was looking at her with his arms folded, a funny expression on his face. He looked impressed, and maybe a little proud, but also a little reluctant.

"What?" she asked sheepishly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You know, Evans, I think you're ready."

She blinked at him for a few seconds, rooted to the spot. She bit down on her lip, looking at him apologetically. There was a moment's silence while he took her in, and Lily took that time to appreciate what the wind was doing to his hair.

"What's that look for?" he asked, his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

She fiddled with her sleeves and gave a delicate shrug, avoiding his oddly intense gaze. "Well, now that you mention it," she said slowly, feeling guilty for the first time all day. "Our match was last week."

She looked up at him sharply, watching him for his reaction. He frowned at her for a second, before he grinned brightly.

"Well, why didn't you _tell _me?" he demanded, sounding appalled. "I wanted to see it!" He folded his arms and pouted at her mockingly. She stared at him, her brow furrowing and her lips parted in surprise. Slowly, the knots in her stomach came undone and her chest loosened, her eyebrows shooting up. She'd expected him to be angry, and the relief that spread through her when she realized he wasn't was almost dizzying.

"Well, I don't know," she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. Despite herself, she laughed, so happy he wasn't angry with her – though she couldn't really explain it. "I was having fun. I sort of just wanted to go flying again," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing. "You know, the two of us. To celebrate?" she offered weakly.

"To celebrate?" he repeated, eyeing her cautiously. When she nodded, he broke out into a wide grin that made her stomach do backflips. "You are mental, Evans," he told her, and she wouldn't have mistaken that fond smile for anything.

"That's why you like me, isn't it?"

He just looked at her, his eyes a little wider than normal, but when she shot him an encouraging smile, he seemed to relax a little. "Are we going to have this conversation now?"

"Well, I could wait a couple of weeks," she remarked coolly, shrugging one shoulder.

He sighed, grinning down at her. "I have no idea what you're on about."

"That's a first," she retorted gleefully, poking her tongue out. "Thought you knew everything." He just raised one eyebrow, and she felt her resolve waver slightly. "Alright. I've got a secret."

He shook his head. "Ah."

"And you're not a big fan of secrets."

"That's true. Out with it then," he said, rolling his eyes in glorified exasperation. She bit her lip, frozen for a second, before she let out a laugh and launched herself at him, and they both tumbled to the ground, his back hitting the grass and her arms tightly around his neck and her mouth on his. She felt his arms tighten around her and he rolled them over, tangled together, and he deepened the kiss until she had to pull away to breathe.

"James, I have a huge crush on you," she whispered, gasping.

"Oh, was that meant to be your secret?" he quipped, grinning and pressing his lips to hers once again. She scowled at him playfully, hitting his chest. He got up, pulling her to her feet, and when he held onto her hand, her face flushed and her heart fluttered again.

And once again, she was completely astonished by how completely at ease he seemed. "So," he started, tugging her along and keeping a tight grip of her hand, while Lily smiled and stared at him like she'd been hit over the head. "You had your match already?" She nodded. "Come on, then Evans, start talking. I want to hear all about it."

* * *

Sorry it got so long, I got a bit carried away. Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated!


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